me and my family

Amma calls from Chennai, voice trembling with excitement. The Keeladi excavation unearthed artifacts from our ancestors' time, she whispers, as if touching history itself. My Toronto family gathers around the laptop, watching grainy videos together. "We're resourceful people," Papa says proudly, "stretching every rupee quadruple." I budget carefully, saving for a heritage trip home. My daughter asks about the pottery shards, the Tamil script emerging from earth. Through screens and stories, we're stitching our diaspora back to roots, understanding that our worth isn't measured in currency but connection—the invisible threads binding us to land, language, and each other.